


Ain't It Fun

by TehrBear



Series: What You Don't Know [1]
Category: Football RPF, Real Person Fiction, Sports RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gang World, M/M, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, basically a lot of unresolved things, prepare to be disappointed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-03 09:31:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2846222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TehrBear/pseuds/TehrBear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fernando reads someone's diary.</p><p>Cesc is no more heartbroken than usual.</p><p>Xabi needs to get laid.</p><p>(Also Louis Podolski has been kidnapped.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Not So Much Cut and Dry as a Wake-Up Call

**Author's Note:**

> This has not been beta'd so all mistakes are my own. If you find any grammar/spelling mistakes please do tell me.
> 
> I do not own the characters as they are real people but I own all other elements of the story which is completely fictional and not to be taken seriously at all.

Fernando had been taking the train for years. Nothing had ever happened that constituted as interesting. Sure, there was that time some kid vomited all over his shoes and wiped her mouth on his jacket but he was just trying to forget about _that_ incident. He really wasn’t the kind to snoop—okay, maybe he was considering it was in his job description—but he did get bored fairly easily and that, combined with lack of control over his actions, could sometimes be an issue. So, during an hour long train ride, with broken headphones and over his data limit, he saw a book bound in black leather with an expensive looking fountain pen sticking out of it and he couldn’t help himself. He had thought it was going to be a planner or a phone book that he could entertain himself with for a total of ten seconds before tossing it aside and continuing with his boring ride into the city. A ride he wouldn’t have had to take if he was good at making smart decisions. He didn’t spend nights away from his apartment often but the previous night had been an exception. Nevertheless, he didn’t regret going to see his ex. He never regretted the decision to stay over. All these thoughts however, flew from his mind when he realized that the book wasn’t just a day planner or dull phonebook. It was a journal. One that belonged to someone who seemed to pour their heart into it with the way the pages were filled. Fernando searched for a name or any information at all about the owner. He had almost given up when a photo of a goofy looking little boy and a young looking woman fell out. It was old. The corners were slightly bent and there was a little blurb on the back: _Me and Mami (1990)._

It didn’t give him much information but he at least knew that the journal belonged to a man. This definitely increased his curiosity. He’d never known a man, or even a boy, who kept a journal. He flipped to the beginning.

_I hate hospitals._

The train lurched slightly on the tracks just as an old woman came to join him across on the opposite seat. He dropped the journal and the photo to help steady her when she almost fell. She thanked him with a sweet smile. When he bent to pick up the items he had dropped, the woman caught sight of the photo and commented, telling him what a handsome little boy he was. Even though Fernando personally didn’t think he looked anything like the boy in the picture (he was way more adorable and not nearly as awkward looking as a child), he smiled shyly. He didn’t, however, want to get into a conversation with anyone and thankfully the woman didn’t try. He looked at his watch. There was fifteen minutes till his station. He flipped to the first page again, after tucking the photo into the cover.

_I hate hospitals._

_When I was a kid, the crowded waiting rooms were my playground. Now that I know why I always had to spend so much time there, the thought of having to spend more makes me sick. It’s also the same reason I continue to spend almost all of my time here._

The next line was fiercely crossed out but Fernando could make out angrily scribbled curses.

_Mami told me to go home today, I told her I would but I’m sitting in the car in the parking lot. It’s not my car._

The old woman coughed loudly making Fernando jump and interrupting his reading.

_It’s not my car. That’s still in the shop. It seems like it spends more time there than in my garage. The guy who owns the shop told me I could come get it tomorrow. They’re waiting for a new part to come in but the manufacturer doesn’t send in the new shipment for another month or something like that. He said he left the old part in and it runs well, just not the way that I wanted it to. I could be mistaken. I wasn’t really listening seeing as I was extremely distracted by the way his jaw moved when he talked. Needless to say, he’s cute. He’s always so serious looking, though. I wonder if he’d smile if I told him a knock knock joke or made a pun. I bet he’d look even cuter smiling. I bet it would melt the sun._

Fernando’s stop was announced. He decided that the journal wasn’t his to take nor was he all that interested, at that point, in reading about a grown man rave about a crush like a teenager. He got enough of that where he was headed. He set it down on the seat beside him and grabbed his laptop bag, rushing to the automatic doors that opened the second he approached them. He was off the train and almost to the exit when someone tapped his shoulder. When he turned around a teen shoved the journal he had just left behind into his hands.

“Some kooky old lady said you forgot this,” the girl said. “You’re welcome.”

Before Fernando could even form a coherent thought, the girl was out of sight. He huffed and dropped the journal into his laptop bag. He hurried to the coffee shop that he usually hit before heading to a job. He knew Xabi would be waiting there for him, early as usual, so he could complain about Fernando being late. Xabi apparently needed to complain to keep himself sane.

“You’re late,” he grunted as expected. “As always.”

“We were supposed to meet at 9,” Fernando said. “It’s 8:45 so suck my di—”

“As much as I’d love to Nando, I think I’m gonna pass for now.”

Fernando grinned. Pleasantries weren’t really their thing but it didn’t matter. Banter worked just as well.

“You look like you had a fun night.” Of course, Xabi and subtle didn’t go together.

“You have no proof.”

“That’s not your shirt.” Fernando looked down. This, indeed, was not his shirt. But he scoffed anyways.

“I’ve had this shirt for years.” Xabi glared at him as the blatant lie spilled from his mouth. Fernando didn’t care. In his opinion, Xabi shouldn’t interfere with, or comment on, his personal life.

They hadn’t finished stubbornly glaring at each other, or establishing where Fernando got his clothes from, when Cesc—who really was always late—finally joined them.

“I _so_ sorry guys, I know I promised I’d try to be earlier but I got seriously sidetracked.” Cesc was incredibly flustered most of the time. Certain times were worse than others.

Xabi didn’t give him the shit that he’d give Fernando if it were him that was twenty minutes late to something they’d classified as urgent. It didn’t bother Fernando. No one gave Cesc shit. No one was _allowed_ to give Cesc shit (even though he was kind of a little shit). Anyone who did would have to deal with Xabi himself, or even Fernando—and no one wanted to be caught in a dark alley with either of them.

“Relax Fábregas, we wouldn’t start without you,” Xabi said, getting up for another coffee. Cesc smiled nervously at him as he passed.

“What’s wrong?” Fernando asked.

“I don’t know how I feel about doing a job so… close. What if something goes wrong?”

“Nothing will go wrong.”

“There is always a chance and if,” he lowered his voice, “ _you know who_ was to find out…”

Fernando knew exactly what Cesc meant. ‘You know who’ was his boss. Cesc would definitely get fired if things went sour and his boss found out. Getting fired was the last on his list of worries, though. Cesc had bigger problems having to do with this boss than just getting fired. He was afraid that his boss would never _talk_ to him ever again or want to _see_ him ever again because he _seriously_ had the hots for his employer. Even though he would never voice it, nor did he ever expect the feelings to be returned, he had built a special little world for himself that he did not want destroyed over a turf war he never wanted to be a part of in the first place.

“I wouldn’t worry.” Fernando assured him. “It might be a weird request but the gig itself isn’t difficult. We’ll be in and out completely unnoticed.”

“I can’t help but worry.”

“Would you rather someone else do it and completely fuck up?” Xabi asked, lowering himself back into his seat. “Look, the only reason we’re even doing this is to make sure our territory is marked and no one breaches it again.”

“If we don’t, people will think that it’s okay to come and go as they please and that could mean trouble for the people we all care about. Not just you or me or Red Beard over here. Everyone,” Fernando added.

“I get that,” Cesc said, nodding

“Good,” Xabi said.

“I want to keep Iker safe.”

“And you can.”

“I will.” Cesc sighed. “I’m sorry. I won’t complain anymore.”

“Okay, I’m glad that that’s settled. Now, before we rush into anything,” Fernando scooted closer, “We need more information about the situation. Out of nowhere those bastards tell us they’ll start respecting the terrain agreements if we do this one small thing for them. It seems like we’re getting ourselves into a nasty deal.”

“Agreed,” Xabi said. “We have to keep in mind that there is a child involved in this and no matter what side we’re on, no one wants a kid getting hurt. No matter who the kid is. It _would_ help if we _did_ know who this kid is. It might seem like an easy job for us but it probably means a whole lot more to them.”

“We need more intel.”

“I’ll make a few calls.”

“I’ll ask around the area,” Cesc said. “Maybe the guys at work or some of the clients have noticed something.”

“Good call. And Nando,” Xabi addressed Fernando with a smirk. “You be the geek that you are. Do what you do best with that computer of yours.”

\---

Fernando ignored the fact that Xabi called him a geek. He could get everything he needed in a matter of hours if he stayed at the coffee shop and worked without distractions. When Xabi and Cesc had left, he reached into his bag to pull out his laptop and got hold of the journal instead. Clicking his tongue in annoyance, he tossed it on the table and got out what he needed. He sat with his back facing the tinted windows of the cafe so that no one would be able to see his screen. He loved this coffee shop and this table for this exact reason. Privacy. After an hour and a half of tracking and being deflected by an assortment of passcodes and spywares he finally got to where he wanted; a lockbox of info just waiting to be stolen. Even though his current rival was armed to the teeth with a shit ton of crap that he could get through in his sleep, he decided to sit back and let Nora do the work. Nora was a program he created—it was practically his daughter—that hacked into systems with the same ease he did. Even though he could do most things manually, he always let Nora try so that he could catch any bugs in the programs system and fix them, thereby improving his baby girl. Nora was probably his proudest accomplishment yet. He settled with another coffee and watched the progress bar slowly make its way across his screen… for about five seconds before he was bored out of his mind. His eyes wandered and landed on the journal that had peaked his interest earlier that morning. It was slowly starting to interest him again. He picked it up and opened it to a random page.

_I was bottom tonight for the first time in my life and I totally lov—_

Fernando shut the journal lightning fast. Well, his thumb still marked the page, which showed how much he wanted to read on, despite his conscience telling him not to. It felt weird to him to know a random, intimate detail about the life of someone he doesn’t know. He didn’t even know the intimate details of the lives of the people he _did_ know. He knew his face was beet red with the way he could feel it burning. He opened the book up again.

_—ed it. It was weird at first but I had a lot of fun. I don’t know if I prefer it over topping but I would be willing to try it again. He was super nice about it since he knew it was my first time and also since it was our first time going all the way. I love doing things for him because he does things for me too. So many people laugh at me and think I’m weird for liking role play but he just went along with it! He makes such a hot batman._

“Fernando?” The man in question dropped the journal into his lap, nervously looking up at who’d called his name. Iker. Cesc’s boss. “Hey man, what are you up to?”

“Just working,” Fernando smiled at Iker and pointed to his laptop. The smile lit up his pretty face in a way that made people forget their train of thought. It worked on everyone; regardless of sexual orientation. He just had that kind of face and he used and abused this skill of his whenever necessary. He knew it would erase any suspicion Iker might have surrounding the nervousness that Fernando was probably emitting—and Iker got suspicious very easily.

“Right, work,” Iker said, “what is it that you do again?”

Now this isn’t a question that is uncommon for Fernando, and his regular answer isn’t even all that shady—graphic design. Not strange for someone who carries their computer almost everywhere they go. Plus, graphic design is such a broad spectrum—he usually lets other people decide what they think the specifics of his job might be. For some reason though, when it came to Iker, it was really difficult to lie. He wasn’t just Fernando’s friend’s boss. He was a friend to him too, and to Xabi, and to a whole lot of other people they knew mutually. He was practically part of their little clique, only he had no idea what majority of his friends did. He was a natural leader and a caring friend which made lying to him even harder. No one liked to do it but it had to be done. If Iker knew what was going on right under his nose, he wouldn’t just fire Cesc—he would never talk to any of them _ever again._ Iker _hated_ gangs. Especially the ones that terrorized the city he tried to live in peacefully. So when he asked Fernando what he did for a living (which he did a lot because Iker was very forgetful, but he was working on it), Fernando, no matter how horrible it made him feel, said graphic design. This time, however, he didn’t get the chance.

Before he could answer, he was interrupted by a man dressed in what could be considered semi-formal attire. An immaculate, white button down shirt tucked into black pants. The shirt fit tightly on the man’s chest and his beard was trimmed neatly. He was probably the most professional looking man Fernando had seen all morning.

“Hey I have to be in a board meeting soon,” the man said. “Did you still want that ride?”

Iker wrapped an arm around the man’s waist (that Fernando could just imagine being _so_ toned) and smiled at him. “I’ll be right there.”

The man returned the smile and they shared a chaste kiss before parting, the man heading for the door.

“So that’s Mr. Mystery Guy we’ve barely heard a thing about,” Fernando teased. Iker frowned at him but he was blushing.

“Shut up,” he growled. “His name is Sergio not ‘Mr. Mystery Guy’. Happy? You know something about him now.”

Fernando grinned. It was rare to see Iker uncomfortable and flustered. This particular situation reminded him of Cesc in a way.

“Anyways, I’m glad I ran into you,” Iker said. “I needed to— I want to— Is Cesc okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s been acting really… different, lately.”

Ever since Iker started seeing Mr. Mystery Guy, Cesc had been trying to emotionally distance himself from his boss. He was in no way ready to let go completely but he knew that his mental health would suffer if he stayed attached to Iker now like he had when Iker was single. Thankfully, Iker was incredibly private about the intimate details of his life, which meant more room for Cesc to breathe. The poor guy at least didn’t feel as if life was flaunting the fact that his crush would never like him in his face.

“He’s fine,” Fernando said, wondering if he should mention this little incident to Cesc.

“Really? Because he’s barely talking to me.” Iker paused for a moment. “Is it something I’ve said? Something I’ve done?”

Fernando rolled his eyes. It was baffling to him that Iker didn’t recognize that Cesc had feelings for him. Cesc didn’t exactly try to hide it. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Oh.” Fernando hoped that this Sergio guy and Cesc never met. Cesc wasn’t hostile but it would hurt him to see Iker with someone.

“I just saw him. He’s fine, really. There’s nothing to worry about,”

“Okay,” Iker sighed. “Thanks.”

Fernando smiled at him. Then his computer beeped.

“I’ll let you get back to uh… _work_ then.”

Fernando barely acknowledged Iker’s words as he was too busy trying not to gape at the information on his screen. When Iker had gone, he got out his phone and dialed Xabi.

“You were right,” he said, not bothering with a greeting. “It’s not about just any kid. It’s about Schweinsteigers kid.”

“I knew it!” Xabi yelled and followed with an almost hysterical laugh. Fernando moved the phone away from his ear to spare his hearing. “I fucking knew it! Do you realize what we could get out of them when we find that kid?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Where are you?”

“Still at the coffee shop.”

“Stay there. I’m coming to get you. And when I see you, I’m gonna kiss every damn freckle on your face you beautiful bastard.”

\---

Cesc tried to plan his shifts for when he was sure Iker wouldn’t be there. He wanted to be as close to and as far away from his boss, his friend, as possible at all times. It didn’t always work out but at times it did. Even though Iker was working today, Cesc’s shift was almost over and he had managed to avoid him the entire tim—

“Cesc! Get over here.” Iker called to him from across the shop. Cesc ducked behind a red sedan. “I can see you asshole.”

Cesc sheepishly stood up and walked to Iker with a fake smile. “Hey! Long time no see.”

Iker eyed him skeptically. “Yeah… listen. Remember Mrs. Silva? She wants her wheel alignment checked. _Again_. Can you please deal with her for me?”

“Uh yeah. Of course.”

“Thank you.” Iker pulled him in for a one armed hug as the other had a dirty oil rag draped over it. “You’re the best. Come talk to me after you’re done, though. It’s kinda important.”

By the time he was done dealing with Mrs. Silva, he was off work. He knew he should have gone to talk to Iker anyways. They were friends. They went way back. But he didn’t. Instead he called Xabi and told him not to pick him up at the garage, but a couple of blocks down. He could find the guts to talk to Iker another day.

\---

Cesc got off work at five. By seven, they had all the nitty gritty details, pieced together from everything they had managed to find out, all figured out. It was just the three of them. Xabi didn’t want anyone else to know just yet. By eight, they were in Xabi’s car an apartment building. The penthouse of the apartment was rented out by someone who used to work with them. He’d been practically excommunicated a while back for a job badly done involving Bastian Schweinsteiger. This is why it was assumed he had kidnapped Louis Podolski, Bastian’s stepson.

“I’ll deal with Costa, you two get the kid out of there.”

“We know the plan,” Fernando groaned. “We’ve been over it.”

“Well we’ll go over it a thousand times more.”

Fernando caught Cesc’s eye and they grinned at each other, both used to, if not amused by, Xabi’s bossy ways.

“Let’s get going,” Cesc said. “Give us a ten minute head start.”

“Don’t fuck up!” Xabi yelled as they got out. The plan was so simple and Fernando could not believe that the Diego Costa he knew hadn’t taken any precautions at all considering he’d kidnapped someone. The building had no security and even the windows could be easily opened from the outside. This made their task a hell of a lot easier. The two climbed up the fire escape to the penthouse. When they were outside a window, they crouched and Cesc handed Fernando a wire hooked on one end. Totally high tech. Fernando lifted his head up slightly to get a glimpse of the room they would be breaking into and saw an interesting scene laid out before him. Costa was standing with his back to the window, facing a plain bed frame with a bare mattress next to the far wall. The kid was sitting on the mattress with his knees drawn to his chest. His eyes were red, presumably from crying and Costa was yelling at him. The kid was… yelling back.

“Mother of fucking—! Just shut up kid!”

“No! I want Daddy! Take me back! Take me back!”

“I’m not gonna take you back if you keep fucking shouting like that!”

“I’m not gonna stop shouting till you stop swearing at me and taking me back to Daddy!”

Fernando thought his position was as safe as it could be until the kid looked slightly to Costa’s left and their eyes met just as Cesc pulled him down.

“Shit!”

“What?” Cesc whispered back. “What’s wrong?”

“The kid saw me.”

“Well let’s hope he’s smart enough to keep his mouth shut.”

They waited a few minutes longer, the yelling continuing above their heads as if nothing had happened. When Costa didn’t reply to one of the kids remarks and instead swore particularly loudly, cursing himself and everything around him, they knew it was time. The building didn’t have a buzzer system, adding to its lack of security, so Xabi must have knocked. There were sounds of struggling until finally the kids protests stopped. Costa had probably restrained him. They waited until they heard the tell-tale sound of a door slamming shut before standing from their crouching positions. Fernando quickly had the windows latch undone and Cesc was climbing through soon after with Fernando on his tail just in case. All the while the boy, whose hands, feet and mouth were duct taped, was watching them intently from the bed. Cesc got through soundlessly despite being the clumsy one between the two went straight to the child, whereas it took Fernando a little for effort to not make too much noise. Cesc grabbed the scissors lying next to the roll of duct tape on the floor and began to cut through the layers of tape on the kids feet.

“Fábregas!” Fernando whispered. “This isn’t the time just grab him and let’s go.”

“You heard Xabi before. We’re not supposed to frighten him. If the kid complains to Schweinsteiger then the deal falls through.”

Fernando sighed but as Cesc finished with the tape on the boys feet and moved to the tape on his hands, he slowly peeled back the piece on the boys mouth. The look he got almost made him melt out of too much exposure to cuteness but the muffled voices coming through the door brought him back to reality. When the boy was free, Cesc helped him sit straight and held him gently by the shoulders.

“What’s your name?” he asked softly.

“Cesc, you already know his--” Cesc turned and silenced Fernando with an ultimate bitchface—one that could even beat Iker’s. Then he turned back to the boy.

“Tell me your name,” Cesc’s voice was practically a whisper.

“Louis,” the boy choked out. His voice had obviously been affected by the yelling he’d been doing earlier. At least he wasn’t yelling now. That would be detrimental to their task.

“Okay Louis, we’re here to help you but we need your help to do that, understand?” Louis nodded. “Great, all I need is for you to be really quiet.”

When the boy nodded again, Fernando practically jumped back out the window to hurry things up. The voices outside the door were incomprehensible but getting louder by the second so Cesc wasted no time in moving Louis to the window too and Fernando prayed that Xabi wasn’t going to let his pride take over his control. Just as he was about to lift him and help him through to Fernando a gunshot sounded around the apartment. Louis screamed in fright, and though it blew their cover completely, Fernando didn’t blame the kid for being scared. Costa burst through the door with his gun in hand. He saw Cesc holding Louis by the window and confusion flooded his expression.

“Fábregas?” It took mere moments for him to piece together Xabi’s visit and now Cesc with the kid. Fernando assumed that the dark outside the window hid him well but he was getting increasingly worried about Xabi after that shot. “Fábregas. Move away from the kid.”

Costa raised his gun just as Cesc shoved Louis into Fernando’s arms.

There were two shots fired.

Then Louis’ scream.

Then silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tags will most likely be altered after every chapter.


	2. Fernando's Too Stressed to Be Distracted By Tiny Underwear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if it seems too unrealistic. I did a bit of research but really I'm too lazy.

Fernando swore loudly. Louis was trying to squirm away from his hold. Someone had probably called the police after hearing three gunshots so they needed to act fast. From what little he could see of Costa through the window there was no doubt in him that the man was dead. Xabi was an excellent shot. Speaking of Xabi, he was sitting in the doorway—half collapsed, half leaning against the frame clutching his bleeding leg. He’d already torn off part of his shirt and tied it tightly above the bullet wound to slow down the bleeding a little at the very least. Cesc was leaning against the window. Blood from his shoulder splattered across the panes. Fernando told Cesc to move and climbed through the window a third time, somehow managing to pull the struggling kid through with him. There was no way the other two men would be able to climb out the window in their conditions, so that escape route was out of the question even though it would be the shortest and safest way. Fernando couldn’t hear any sirens just yet. They had some time.

Louis was still struggling and if Xabi was getting frustrated with the slow progression of their escape, he didn’t voice it. Fernando turned to Cesc and gave him a pleading look. Cesc, who was clutching his wounded shoulder with a pained expression, nodded slightly. He let go of his shoulder and gently took the kids hands in his own.

“Hey, listen. We’re gonna get you out of here okay? You’ll be back with your dad and… your other dad too.” Louis stopped kicking at Fernando and looked at Cesc. “There we go. You just have to trust us and you’ll be home soon.”

Fernando left Cesc with the kid, now that he seemed calm enough, and went over to Xabi, crouching down next to him.

“Can you walk?”

“Maybe.” Xabi said. “We can’t take the elevator.”

“There’s no way you can walk down the stairs.”

“Well you’ll just have to fucking help me!” Xabi winced and Fernando thought it might have had more to do with the tone of his own voice rather than the bullet in his leg.

“Breathe Xabs. Everything will be fine.” Cesc walked over to them, still holding the boy gently, but firmly.

“The blood.” he said. “We don’t have any bleach or peroxide.”

“I have someone who’ll take care of that.”

“Of course you do.” Xabi tossed Cesc his car keys.

“Run.” Xabi hissed. “And no elevator.”

They were long gone before Fernando could even get Xabi onto his feet. Once the man was standing though, he walked with a determination that looked exhausting to Fernando. He kept up with Xabi, making sure to support him well so they wouldn’t be unnecessarily delayed trying to steady themselves over and over again. The building wasn’t very tall but they slowed the more flights they went down until Fernando was practically dragging a heavily panting Xabi alongside him as they finally got out into the cold air. It took Fernando by surprise to see his boss like this because never before had he seen Xabi even so much as slouch. The car was already running when they go to it but the police sirens were becoming almost deafening. They didn’t see any cop cars or flashing lights just yet. Fernando helped Xabi into the passenger seat and got into the driver’s seat himself, accelerating before he’d even closed the door. Xabi was already on the phone.

“Yeah Costa’s a goner… I’ll tell you what happened later just listen to me. The cops are already there and my blood and Cesc’s blood is all over the place. I need you to… yeah do that. We’ll talk tomorrow.” Xabi hung up. Fernando was about to ask who it was Xabi was talking to when Cesc let out a loud groan from the back.

“Does it hurt?” a timid voice asked him.

“Yeah,” was the reply. “A lot.”

“You should go to the hospital,” Louis said, gaining a bit of confidence. Fernando thought about whether the kid was used to seeing a lot of violence because of his step-dad, or whether Lukas Podolski kept his son as far away from it all as he could.

Xabi grunted at the boy’s ignorance and muttered quietly to himself. “Does he realize that he’s still technically a hostage?”

While they wouldn’t exactly get caught for gallivanting around with a kidnapped child, because it was highly unlikely that Schweinsteiger would have made a deal with Xabi to bring Louis to him if he’d contacted the police about it too, they still couldn’t go to the hospital. Hospitals had to report any suspicious injuries to the police and gunshot wounds were at the top of the suspicious list. Instead, they’d cash in a favour. Or more like, take advantage of a willing friend.

\----

Fernando knocked on a familiar door. As he waited, he glanced worriedly at the car and tried not to think negative thoughts. He was worried yes, but he was far angrier. He hated when things went wrong. He couldn’t stand not knowing what would happen next. He was desperately hoping that the rest of the deal would be very cut and dry, but he highly doubted it. Xabi had spent the afternoon telling him about his crazy demands and Schweinsteiger had a stubborn reputation. That combined could only mean a lot of collateral damage and the only thing Fernando hated more than things not going according to plan was collateral damage—people getting burned in the crossfire of a heated battle between two raging flames. He also hated that Xabi was acting like this. It wasn’t like him. It was— _ugh it doesn’t even matter_. Now his thoughts were conflicted too. _If only—_. So with all those convoluted feelings, he couldn’t even be cheered up when the door was finally answered by Cristiano in the tightest and smallest pair of underwear that Fernando had ever seen. He forced himself to look into Cris’ sleepy face.

“Is lover boy home?”

“What?” Cris yawned.

“James,” Fernando repeated. “Is James here?”

“No, he’s working late.”

“We need his help,” Fernando said, pointing to Xabi’s car. Both the wounded still in there, getting more delirious by the second.

Cris probably had no idea what was going on but from past experience, he knew someone probably needed medical attention. “I’ll go get my phone.”

“Okay,” Fernando nodded awkwardly at Cris’ retreating back as he lingered in the doorway. “Maybe put on some pants too. Just—just a suggestion.”

He heard Cristiano’s echoing laughter as the man disappeared into the dimly lit house.

\----

Fernando sat listening to Cris and James arguing for what seemed like ages. Finally Cris smiled and hung up. “He can’t get off work but he can sneak you in. Sorta.”

“And he doesn’t mind too much?”

“He pretends he does, but really he’s always excited to be part of something that is dangerous and might get him in trouble. I don’t think he’s ever been in trouble in his life.”

So without any explanation, Louis was dumped on—‘put in the care of’ might be a better choice of words—Cris, who didn’t seem to mind being in the dark. Having worked alongside them before he knew that not knowing was sometimes a blessing. Now that he was personally out of that life, not knowing was even better. Most people, trying to leave, did get out, but in a body bag or straight to jail. But when Cristiano Jr came into his life, he had a lot of help getting settled down, away from the effects of gang violence. Well… almost. He was involved still but to a small extent. To show his gratitude to his friends, his old family, he did things like letting someone stay the night when they were on the run, or like now, convincing his partner to patch someone up when they needed it. Junior had been awoken by all the commotion and seeing another child calmed Louis down a bit. It made Fernando feel a little less guilty about what the kid had witnessed, but not much.

It didn’t take them long to reach to the hospital. They followed James’ directions to the back parking lot, where he was waiting between two ambulances that looked desperately out of repair. His face was grim as he helped Fernando get Xabi and Cesc into one of the ambulances, all the while muttering about why he bothered helping them. At one point, while Fernando was attempting to lift Xabi’s leg onto the gurney, Cesc mentioned that it was because he loved Cris and Cris loved them. James rolled his eyes, looking like he wanted to sock Cesc in the face, but at the same time the corners of lips tugged up, most likely at the mention of Cristiano. Then he said he had to go.

“What?” Xabi said. “How does that work. We’re here and you’re not. Are you gonna fix us through some telepathic connection?”

“I think you mean telekinetic and no. I’m still on call,” James said, and as if on cue his pager beeped. “I’m sorry but my hands are tied. There’s another doctor on the way.”

“Another doctor?!”

“Relax you’ve lost a lot of blood. No need to get it boiling too.” James gave them an apologetic smile. “Don’t worry, he’s sworn to secrecy.”

“Oh, and that makes everything so much better.”

“He owes me. He won’t say a word. You don’t have to trust him but you trust me. Right?”

“I don’t trust anyone.” A hurt look crossed James’ face. He had helped them out countless times, he didn’t deserve that kind of treatment from Xabi but Xabi could barely keep his eyes open and Fernando wasn’t all too sure that he was very conscious of what was being said. James seemed to realize it too because he seemed to adopt the casually sympathetic expression that only doctors seemed to be able to master.

“We trust you as much as we trust Cris,” Cesc said. He was shaking and his injured arm hung limp at his side. James nodded and apologized once more before he was gone, closing the doors of the ambulance. Not a minute later, the doors swung open and Fernando, who’d had his hand hovering over—or at least near—his belt ever since they reached the hospital, sprang up to omit any possible threat. His jaw dropped to the floor when the allegedly sworn to secrecy doctor entered and closed the doors behind him. The doctor was Iker’s boyfriend, the Sergio guy (or Dr. Ramos according to the tag pinned to his chest), aka Mr. Mystery Guy. He didn’t say a word as he assessed the three men in front of him, obviously not happy with the situation he was in. Fernando wondered what James might have on him that would convince him to do this and keep quiet about it. He wondered if it had to do with Iker.

Sergio evidently didn’t recognize him from the morning. Then again from what Fernando could recall, he had seemingly been in a hurry and hadn’t even looked Fernando’s way. If he recognized Cesc, from being around Cesc’s workplace, he didn’t let it on.

He went to Xabi first, working fast and efficiently. Even though Xabi was pretty far gone, especially after whatever drugs Sergio gave him, Fernando could tell he was, if only slightly, impressed by the doctor’s professionalism. By the time he was done, Xabi had dozed off. Cesc didn’t seem to have it as bad, and the whole process moved quicker. Unlike Xabi, however, Cesc showed his pain through winces and almost inaudible hisses. Sergio asked him to clench his fist. He did, with no trouble.

“The bullet isn’t lodged in your arm so you got lucky. There doesn’t seem to be any nerve damage but you’re not going to be able to feel your fingers for a while. The feeling should come back completely within 48 hours and if not, then I suggest seeking further medical attention.” Cesc barely managed to nod, also beginning to fall asleep, irritatingly against Fernando’s side since he wasn’t lying on a gurney.

“What about him?” Fernando asked, motioning towards Xabi.

“The bullet doesn’t look to be damaging any major arteries but taking it out would mean risking possible internal bleeding and infection. His body will adapt to the metal but it’ll cause him discomfort for a while. He definitely should avoid any walking unless absolutely necessary until the stitches come out, which I assume Dr. Rodríguez will take care of.” He sighed deep and long. “Of course this would all be much easier if they were both on operating tables. There would be less complications. So if either of them develops a fever that doesn’t break after a day, or two maximum, that’s a sign of something gone wrong.”

“Noted. What did you give them?”

“Corticosteroids.”

“Words that I can understand would be nice.”

“It’ll reduce things like swelling and infection. They’ll probably sleep for a while but it won’t be very restful.” Fernando nodded and turned away. Cesc shifted against him and he began worrying about drool on his jacket. Before he could check, Sergio grabbed his arm to catch his attention once again. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on or what kind of crap Rodríguez has gotten himself into but I don’t want any part in it.”

Fernando pulled his arm out of the doctors grasp. “Forget any of this ever happened and we’ll make sure you stay uninvolved. I don’t know what James has got on you. Must be big if you’re willing to risk your job to do something for him.”

“Some things just boil down to loyalty. He’s been with me through things that don’t compare to this in the slightest. Situations in which he could have lost more than a job.”

“You don’t have to preach about loyalty to someone like me.” Fernando scoffed. “Or losing more than a job.”

Sergio didn’t reply. Instead, he checked on both of the patched up wounds once more before leaving, shutting the ambulance doors loudly behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know much about gun shot wounds.
> 
> I apologize for my ignorance.


	3. Blow Jobs, Boyfriends and Assumptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More journal reading.
> 
> Also Xabi is really bad at looking at the bigger picture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize. There is not much happening in this chapter.

By the time James returned, Fernando had gone through the seven stages of grief—after he discovered the amount of blood on jacket from hauling Xabi around. He’d also decided not to mention that the doctor was Iker’s boyfriend (he suspected that James already knew), and he wasn’t going to ask Cesc if he knew (because he didn’t know if Sergio hung around Iker’s workplace and didn’t want hit a nerve with Cesc). They managed to rouse the two long enough to get them into the backseat of Xabi’s car. Once Xabi saw the amount of blood on the interior, he wouldn’t get through the grief as quickly as Fernando did with his jacket.

James was no longer on call so he drove back with them. When he found out that they had a kid with them, he, along with Cristiano, convinced them to stay, insisting that whatever crap they were in could wait until the next day. Xabi wasn’t in a place to make the decision so Fernando did. He honestly didn’t want to have to babysit two medicated grown men for the rest of the night all by himself. So instead, Xabi and Cesc were (gently of course) dumped in the guest bedroom and Fernando settled on the couch.

Louis was fast asleep and Fernando’s troubles and anxieties could wait till morning. But he couldn’t find it in him to manage to doze off. He twisted and turned for a while before he decided to get out his laptop. And once again, his hand found the journal first. He decided to settle on that and turned on the lamp behind him. He opened it back to the very beginning and skimmed through the little bit he’d already read. Then he skimmed a little more. There was a two page description on how much this guy hated his feet and then another five pages on how stupid Grey’s Anatomy is compared to Scrubs. Something about crappy movies… crappy music… crappy food—aha!

Fernando found an interesting little entry after all that boring stuff. He felt incredibly uncomfortable at how comfortable he felt reading someone’s private thoughts.

_When I was in the seventh grade, I went to a typical middle school party where none of us had managed to score any alcohol or weed. We were bored out of our minds so, while pretending not to choke on someone’s dad’s cigarettes we decided to play seven minutes in heaven. Now with four girls and six guys, I ended up being paired up with the quietest guy in the group. He seemed too shy to go with it and I was kinda grateful because I wasn’t really on board with the whole idea of being locked in a closet with someone for seven minutes, whether a guy or a girl. The closet in question was stuffy and smelled heavily of mothballs (and sweaty balls). Turns out he wasn’t as shy as I had assumed he was. And that’s how I got my first blowjob. And my first boyfriend._

_Speaking of blowjobs, boyfriends and assuming things about people, Iker isn’t as straight as I thought he was because he asked me out today. I’d gone to pick up my—_

_Wait_ , Fernando thought. He attempted to rub the fatigue from his eyes and checked to see if he’d read that right. _Iker?_ He remembered something in the journal about the guy who fixed cars being cute—and the Iker he knew fixed cars (and admittedly was pretty cute). ‘ _Iker isn’t as straight as I thought he was’._ The Iker he knew definitely wasn’t straight. The Iker he knew was dating that doctor guy and—fuck.

_I’d gone to pick up my car and when he handed me my keys our fingers touched and he avoided eye contact like in those cheesy rom coms. Then he asked me if I wanted to go out for coffee sometime (still not looking at me) and I was so excited that I told him I was free that very second (even though I’d promised James I’d help him look for a birthday present for Cristiano). He was surprised I guess because he started stuttering and said he’d go grab his jacket._

There was no way that this was the Iker that Fernando knew. The Iker he knew would never stutter. It had to be someone different. A different Iker. A different James. A different Cristiano. But the more he thought about it, he seemed to recall the first mentions of Mr. Mystery Guy around the same time as Cris’ birthday.

_I texted James and told him I couldn’t make it with a winky face for good measure. When Iker got back he told some guy who had the hair of a surfer dude to lock up for him. Surfer Dude didn’t seem too happy about it but Iker was smiling at me and I couldn’t feel bad about taking him away from his work because I was right—his smile really could melt the sun._

Fernando was running out of excuses to tell himself. To convince himself that it couldn’t be true. Especially since the more he read on, the more he realized it couldn’t _not_ be true.

_He’s too sweet! We’re going out tomorrow too. Hopefully he doesn’t think that picking me up from a hospital is a huge turn off or something._

Fernando felt scandalized. Now that he knew who the journal belonged to, he dropped it on the floor as if it could burn him. Who knows? It might. He left it on the floor by the couch and turned the lamp off, isolating himself with his thoughts in the dark.

\----

He didn’t remember falling asleep but he must have because he was awoken by a loud grunt of disapproval that could only belong to Xabi. Fernando sat up, yawning.

“You know, it’s not much of a secret that you’re kind of a whore, but do you really have to play with Cesc’s feelings like this.”

“Wha—” Fernando froze. Xabi was sitting on the chair across from the couch with a coffee mug between his hands and the journal—the journal Fernando was almost beginning to dread now—balanced on his uninjured thigh, held open with his elbow. He wasn’t wearing the bloody clothes anymore, instead he was in a plain shirt and sweats that most likely belonged to Cris.

“I didn’t think Iker was your type.” Xabi put both the mug and the journal down on the coffee table in front of him, muttering something along the lines of ‘and what’s all this fucking hospital talk’ more to himself than Fernando.

“You don’t know what you’re fucking talking about Xabi.” _How many painkillers did he take? How out of his mind must he be to think that the journal is mine?_ Before Fernando could say more, Xabi had him pinned to the couch, arms locked behind his back, face down into the cushions. He couldn’t breathe and Xabi was leaning heavily on his legs. It felt as if he could’ve snapped them with any more pressure.

“Listen up, ever since Cris and…   _you know who_  left, I’ve had to put up with some serious crap from the other guys but I never expected something like this from you. And definitely not involving Cesc. But I don’t want any complications that compromise the stability of the team, _the family_ , I’ve tried to build. Especially since the two of you happen to be the biggest part of it.” Fernando tried to say something with the little breath he had. “What?”

Xabi pulled his head up by his hair. “It’s not my fucking journal Xabi. I’m not fucking Iker.”

His grip on Fernando loosened but neither moved. “You’re sure?”

“Yes I’m fucking sure!”

“Okay well just in case you get any ideas about breaking Cesc’s heart…”

“Yeah, right.” Fernando pushed Xabi off of him and the other man winced audibly in pain. Fernando didn’t know how he’d managed to pin him down with an injured leg in the first place. “You deserve it.”

“Hey!” Xabi cried out. “I’d interrogate Cesc in the same way if I thought he was sleeping with Agger.”

Fernando scoffed. There was so much that was wrong with what Xabi said. First, even if Fernando was the worst person in the world and decided to sleep with Iker, Cesc still wouldn’t try to get back at him by sleeping with someone Fernando liked—no matter how bitter he could be. Second, Xabi would never push Cesc around the way he pushed Fernando around, even though Cesc just had the kind of face one would seriously like to punch, hard (his smile could be a tad smug sometimes, if not all of the time). Third, someone, _anyone_ , sleeping with Daniel Agger wouldn’t bother him in the slightest. He did _not_ like Daniel Agger. _He didn’t_. Really. He just liked the way the man fucked him. That was as far as it went. He’d promised himself that when they first broke up. And over and over again everytime he’d stayed over. If it wasn’t for the way Daniel fucked, Fernando wouldn’t have been on that train and he wouldn’t have found that journal and he wouldn’t be thinking about going _again_ tonight…

“So if it’s not your journal then—”

“Can the two of you be the least bit considerate?” James asked, coming down the stairs with a fussy Salomé tucked in one arm and holding Juniors hand with the other. “You woke everyone up. Even that poor kid you scarred for life yesterday.”

“It’s not our fault Costa pulled out a gun!” Xabi and James argued a lot. It was a good thing that they had Cristiano to moderate between them. But sometimes even Cris liked to take his partners side (James wasn’t wrong very often). Like now.

“Right, so we’re supposed to believe that you didn’t do something or say something to piss him off?” Cris asked. He followed James down the stairs with Louis’ hand in his. Even Cesc, still in his blood covered shirt, came down. Fernando jumped for the journal and shoved it into his bag before Cesc reached them. Xabi grumbled at Cris’ comment and even more when Cesc squeezed between them on the couch, making room where there was none. Fernando stood so Cesc’s arm wouldn’t get squished between their bodies.

“Where did you get the clothes?” Cesc asked, leaning back on the couch. James and Cris disappeared into the kitchen with the children.

“Borrowed them. Went out for a bit of fresh air too. That medication made me feel really strange.” Fernando moved towards the kitchen too. Not missing Xabi’s look—a look that promised that the topic of the journal would not be forgotten.

“Xabi, that doctor guy said you shouldn’t walk too much. James will probably say the same.”

“Since when do I listen to doctor guys. Or James.”

“Doesn’t it hurt, though? My arm is killing me.”

“Pain is an illusion. I feel nothing.”

“Shut up, Xabi. I swear I’ll shoot you.”

The scene in the kitchen wasn’t any more intellectual than the one in the living room, with Louis and Junior sipping juice boxes and intently discussing a Disney movie and Salomé refusing to eat the apple sauce James was offering her.

“What’s going to happen?” Cris asked him, lowering his voice. He was making coffee.

“I’m not sure. We were supposed to hand the kid over to Kroos. Özil was going to act as the middle man but I have a feeling Xabi will want to talk to Schweinsteiger directly.

“Let me guess. He has ridiculous demands? Who’s to know if they won’t strike back if things don’t go the way they want them to? It won’t go well.”

“I need someone to talk to him. Someone he’ll listen to.”

Cris paused to pour coffee into four coffee mugs. “What about Gerrard?”

“You know they’re not on good terms. Like at all,” Fernando said shaking his head. “What if that makes it worse.”

“I think it might be worth a try.”

“I’ll give him a call. I don’t expect any results though.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next one is probably more emotional than anything but Xabi's psyche is delved into a tiny bit.


	4. You're All I Wanted Then. You're All I Want Now.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xabi is really bad at pretending he doesn't want Stevie around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I go off on a thousand tangents in this one. I'm sorry if it's too confusing.

When it came time to prepare for meeting Özil and Kroos, Fernando drove them—Xabi, Cesc and the kid—to Xabi’s place (with Xabi making unnecessary comments about the way Fernando was driving his car that made Fernando want to crash into the vehicle in front of him). Louis had asked if they were taking him home now but didn't complain when Cesc replied with a firm “not yet”.

Their pain medication was wearing off and they were getting frustrated. Fernando had actually hugged James with an over enthusiastic “bless you” when the young doctor gave him the pills that would keep Xabi and Cesc from tearing him to pieces. All he had to do was double—maybe triple—the dosage James had told him and all would be good.

After his conversation with Cris, Fernando had immediately excused himself to call Steven Gerrard. The conversation had started pleasantly enough—despite how long it had been since they spoke and the reason for that. But it got painfully tense when Fernando explained the situation.

“So he’s resorted to using children as barter, huh?”

“Well technically,” Fernando didn’t want to come to Xabi’s defense too quickly—Stevie had always been a better friend when it came down to the bitter details—but he had endured a lot with Xabi and the man kind of owned his ass for the time being, “they were the ones who offered to keep off our territory in exchange for us finding the kid, so I guess they kind of opened the barter to him.”

“And let me guess, it was you who told him how important the kid is to them.” Fernando kept his mouth shut and Stevie laughed. “Well, I’m not gonna lie, Nando. I haven’t missed this.”

“Missed you too you bastard.” Stevie laughed again but this time it was cut short and sounded quite bitter.

“I’ll talk to him.” Fernando sighed, flooded with relief. “That is why you called me right?”

“Yeah,” Fernando said. He had had his doubts about whether this would work but having talked to Stevie now, he felt a bit better about it. “Do you think he’ll listen to you?”

“I’ll make him.” They were both silent for a moment. Fernando was the one to break the silence.

“We’ll be at his place by one.”

“I’ll see you then.” The line went dead.

\----

            They managed to get to Xabi’s door unbothered. Cesc had a jacket covering his ruined shirt so, if anything, the group just looked extremely shady, but not like they'd cause any harm. Fernando was worrying about how Xabi would react to Stevie trying to talk to him. He hadn’t been so sure about the whole thing when Cris first mentioned it but he felt better about it after the phone call. Still, Xabi could be very unpredictable. Hopefully no more shots would be fired.

            However, the first thing that Xabi did when he opened his door was pull out his gun. Fernando peeked to see who Xabi was aiming at but only saw the back of a head, belonging to someone carelessly lounging on Xabi’s recliner. He moved to block the doorway when Xabi stepped inside. Cesc pulled Louis behind him when Fernando pulled out his gun too, assuming the situation could get ugly. The kid’s eyes were wide, seeing weapons for a second time in less than twenty-four hours.

“Don’t fucking move,” Xabi warned the intruder, carefully trying to round to the other side of the recliner. He was limping slightly—very obviously trying not to. Fernando stayed in the doorway, his gun trained to the back of the strangers head. The person didn’t acknowledge Xabi’s words in the slightest. When Xabi was finally in a position to see the intruders face, a look of surprise took over his expression and the gun went limp in his hands for a second—but only a second—before his face contorted in anger and he gripped the weapon tighter than ever, his knuckles turning white.

“How’d you get in?” Xabi demanded. The stranger chuckled. Fernando had heard that laugh just a while ago.

“Is that any way to welcome me home?”

“Ugh, it’s just Stevie.” Cesc said, sounding exasperated. He shoved Fernando aside just as Stevie stood up. He accepted a side hug from the man while grumbling something about how this was all “great! Just great!” with Xabi’s gun still aimed at the older man’s head. But of course, Stevie wasn’t exactly here for a reunion, even if it was a bit unavoidable at this point. He was here to talk, or maybe knock, some sense into Xabi. Whichever it was, Fernando hoped it would happen soon (he also hoped Stevie would decide to stay for a while or maybe forever so that Xabi wouldn’t be so wound up all the time). He noticed Louis surveying the scene from between from between his long legs and put his gun back into his belt, letting his jacket slide over it and concealing the weapon completely. He ushered the boy in and closed the door behind them. Stevie turned back to Xabi again but the man with the gun did the talking.

“How. Did. You. Get. In.” He repeated, slowly, but the words came out harsh and cold. Cesc sat down on the couch to watch the drama unfold from a more comfortable position. Fernando saw him cradling his injured arm but made no move to get the pain medication. He was too focused on Xabi’s reaction, which was not exactly what he had expected. Even Xabi’s leg was starting to tremble. He wondered if the kid should be here for this. He didn’t want to leave him alone in a room like Costa had done, but he didn’t want to miss this scene himself either. He quickly weighed his options and noticed that the two men, with loads of tension between them, were well on their way to forgetting all others in the room with them.

In response to Xabi’s question, Stevie held up a set of keys. “I believe my name is on the lease for this apartment, right next to yours. Did you really think I wouldn’t keep the key?”

“Why are you here?” Xabi was swaying on his feet and there was a thin layer of sweat shining on the skin of his face. “Why are you—after all this time—how could you think this is okay?”

“Maybe you should sit down.” Stevie approached Xabi with no fear of the gun pointed at him. Xabi stumbled back but Stevie caught him by the waist. The hand holding the gun hung went limp over Stevie’s chest and his arm rested heavily over Stevie’s shoulders. He sat Xabi down on the recliner he’d just been on. Fernando watched Xabi’s composure melt as he let Stevie take the gun from him and buried his face in his hands. Seeing Xabi break down like that wasn’t at the top of Fernando’s list of priorities so he guided the boy across the room, smacking Cesc on the back of his head in passing. Cesc got up and followed him, muttering uncomfortably.

“So we’ll just be uh…” he points to the room they were heading into, “in there.”

Stevie acknowledged their departure with a smile. Xabi didn’t even move.

\----

            Stevie crouched in front of Xabi and pulled his hands away from his face. Xabi refused to look at him but the expression on the man’s face broke Stevie’s heart. He didn’t let go of Xabi’s hands and Xabi didn’t pull away either.

            “If you came here with an apology, I can’t forgive you,” Xabi said, his voice breaking. “I just can’t.”

“I understand that. I understood it the first time I apologized to you.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I haven’t come here to take advantage of your emotions,” Stevie started slowly. “I’m here because, despite what you believe, I care about you.”

“Telling me you care about me _is_ taking advantage of my emotions.”

“What you’re thinking of doing is ridiculously stupid and dangerous.”

“What?” Xabi scoffed, pulling his hands out of Stevie’s grip.

“And I’m telling you this because I care.”

“Stop saying that!” Xabi took a deep breath. “What is stupid and dangerous?”

“Trying to milk this deal with Schweinsteiger.”

“What do you know?” Xabi tried shoving Stevie aside and standing up but a sharp pain in his thigh caused his legs to fail him.

“I know that if you don’t hand the kid over without a fuss, not only are they gonna throw the original deal out the window, but things are going to get bloody. I know that the last thing you need right now is collateral damage. I know that if you go in all demanding and what not, it’s going to end badly—because you’re too stubborn to just let things go for once. Too stubborn to see that he’s offering you peace, because you just want to win the war.”

“Don’t pretend to know what I want.”

“I always know what you want.”

“No—”

“And even if you want to prove you’re better than _him_ —a better leader than _him_ ,” Stevie was no longer referring to Schweinsteiger and he knew that Xabi noticed by change in his expression—from frustration due to the fact that he was having a conversation with someone he’d thought he’d never hear from again, to thoughtfulness backed up by the intelligence Stevie knew Xabi possessed, “you can’t bear losing people. The people loyal to you.”

“I—”

“Because those are the people that will get hurt Xabi. Those are the people that are going to continue being murdered over a ridiculous turf war if you keep making prideful decisions.”

Stevie could see the wheels in Xabi’s head turning. His face was marred by a frown but his eyes were shining and Stevie could almost taste the compassion that Xabi had once reserved for him. So he moved closer, hoping that compassion was still there, until their noses were touching—only slightly—and the air they were breathing mingled together. Xabi involuntarily sucked in a deep breath, and his eyes met Stevie’s for the first time since he sat down. Stevie put his hands on Xabi’s jaw and Xabi automatically covered them with his own.

“Xabi,” Stevie said. Xabi shivered. If either of them decided to move closer, their lips would meet and neither knew how much control they would have after that. Even in the situation they were in, after everything that had happened between them, they were, and always had been, undeniably attracted to each other. “A lot of people will get hurt, Xabi.”

“Okay,” Xabi nodded, slightly. “B—But, I need…”

“What do you need?” Stevie whispered.

Xabi closed the distance between them and harshly sucked on Stevie’s lower lip, and was met with a patient and soft response. Stevie was trying not to let it go too far. Xabi had other ideas. He moved a hand to the back of Stevie’s head, forcing the man closer as he re-explored the shape of his lips and remembered them to be just soft—just as sweet—as they’d always been. He grabbed a fistful of Stevie’s shirt with his other hand. Stevie, however, pulled away and stood up. Xabi tried to stand as well, his legs no longer feeling weak with new found adrenaline and endorphins rushing through his bloodstream, courtesy of the kiss. He blindly grabbed the side table for support and accidentally knocked an ashtray to the floor. It shattered loudly, followed by a string of curses from Xabi, just as loud. Stevie had already crossed the room, trying to put distance between him and Xabi (and by default, him and all his biggest problems as well as his whole world). His face was red as Xabi hobbled towards him. He’d picked up his gun from where Stevie had set it down.

“I need,” Xabi took a deep breath, “an explanation.”

“I know.”

“You never told me. You never told me what happened. How it happened.”

“I know.”

“You just left.” Another deep breath. And another. He was practically panting. His leg was throbbing again as the rush of endorphins faded. “And that’s what hurt the most”

Stevie kept quiet. So Xabi continued.

“I would have done something. I would have… changed. If that’s what you wanted. We could have avoided all of this. And you’d still be…”

“It wasn’t something you’d done, Xabi. Or hadn’t done. I wouldn’t have asked you to change. You didn’t need to. It wasn’t—” Stevie looked down at his feet and shook his head. “It wasn’t your fault. We couldn’t have avoided anything. It all happened for a reason.”

“What reason?” Xabi snapped. Stevie looked up and smiled softly at him.

“You wouldn’t be where you are now if I hadn’t left. You wouldn’t have all you had wanted at that time.” Xabi shook his head in disbelief at the vagueness of Stevie’s words.

“Whatever Stevie.” Xabi walked towards the room Fernando and Cesc had disappeared into. He didn’t say what he wanted to. It would make him look so weak. As if the kiss hadn’t done that already.

_You’re all I wanted then. You’re all I want now._

\----

They exited the main room and into Xabi’s den. Fernando let out a sigh when the door closed and finally took out the pain medication from his pocket. Cesc snatched it out of his hands, poured some out onto his palm and then swallowed them dry. Then he whined out loud.

“It’s not working!”

“I’m pretty sure it’s gonna take longer than two seconds.”

“Oh what do you know?”

“Tone it down grumpy, you’re setting a bad example.” Fernando pointed to the kid who was standing in front of Xabi’s TV, staring up at it, and then looking at the two men in silent question.

“His step-dad is a mobster, and I’m setting a bad example by being grumpy?”

“Hey, we’re no better than him when it comes to occupation.”

“At least I have an actual job too.”

“That you only took hoping your employer would whisk you off your feet and carry you into the sunset.”

“And because I like cars!” They were on one of the couches now, with Louis between them. Fernando turned on the television, keeping the volume low so that the muffled voices outside the door could still be heard. He started mindlessly flipping through channels as Cesc made his case. Or more accurately—failed to make his case. “And other reasons! Like… like… fuck!”

Louis looked up. Cesc’s cheeks turned pink.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. But Louis was already distracted as he saw Fernando flick by a children’s movie. Fernando felt him practically jump up and went back to it.

“Cesc, Iker is—”

“—in a relationship. I know! I know! I can’t ever seem to forget.” Fernando reached out to pat him on the shoulder but pulled back in the last second, remembering Cesc was hurt. “I didn’t know he was a doctor though. That makes it so much worse.”

Fernando’s eyes went wide. “You knew that the Dr. Ramos guy is Iker’s boyfriend?”

“Yeah, obviously Na—wait. How do you know?”

“Ran into Iker yesterday. After you guys left the coffee shop. They were there together.”

“Oh,” Cesc frowned. “And yeah, I do know him. He comes around the shop all the time. He knows me too.”

“He didn’t seem to let it on.” Fernando understood if he hadn’t been recognized. He could not recall Sergio even looking his way at the coffee shop, but the fact that he could know Cesc had only been a passing thought and probably should have been something he gave more attention to.

“Yeah, James must have something big on him I guess.” Fernando didn’t think so. He thought something different might be taking place. “I wouldn’t worry. I don’t think he’d want Iker to find out he’d helped out a gang, even if said gang happen to be Iker’s friends.”

Fernando raised an eyebrow at the scowling man. “Cesc…” The warning in his tone was clear and Cesc caught on quickly.

“I’m not gonna—!” He started out yelling but was interrupted by the sound of something shattering and loud words on Xabi’s part. Louis tensed up. The last time he had heard muffled yelling through a door, someone had died.

Fernando trusted Stevie to be able to handle things for now, especially since there was no more yelling after that. So he mumbled an awkward “it’s okay” to the kid to get him to relax. When no one barged in, guns blazing, the boy calmed down.

Cesc continued his earlier thought, significantly quieter. “I’m not gonna rat Sergio out just to get them to break up, Nando. That would mean breaking Iker’s heart.”

“Hmm…”

“It would also mean ratting myself out.”

“Yes it would.” Something Cesc had said earlier bothered Fernando. “What did you mean when you said him being a doctor makes things worse?”

“I’m not even close to being at that level.”

“Oh Francesc.”

“What?”

“Do you really think that matters to someone like Iker?”

“I—I… uh…”

“Well?”

“No. I guess it doesn’t.”

“Then why would you beat yourself up about it?”

“Because Fernando, I’m nothing compared to someone who saves lives on a daily basis. Sometimes the lives of the people that someone like me puts in the hospital in the first place. I think that definitely matters to someone like Iker.”

Fernando didn’t have a reply for that but it wouldn’t have mattered. At that moment, the door opened, slamming harshly against the wall. Louis hugged his knees to his chest, as if trying to make himself disappear. Fernando felt bad that the kid couldn’t trust them, but Louis didn’t have any reason to. He was far from home, had been away from his father for way too long and had every right to be scared. Fernando was pretty impressed that he hadn’t burst into tears at any given point so far.

Xabi came through the door, without Stevie, and began unloading his gun.

“We’re going to get this over with,” Xabi explained gruffly. “And then I want you to never meddle with my life again, pretty boy.”

Fernando gave him a blinding smile. “Whatever you say boss!”

“That doesn’t work on me Nando,” he sighed. He muttered the next part more to himself. “Never really had a thing for the pretty ones.”

Fernando’s smile turned into a scowl which was very pointedly ignored. Xabi’s eyes landed on the movie on his screen. It was Meet the Robinsons (a movie Fernando knew Xabi had watched while helping Stevie babysit his nephew—a kinda-sorta-date that he had raved about once when he was drunk out of his mind, going in detail about how underrated the movie was and how good Stevie was with kids). Xabi stared at the screen for a bit too long before leaving the room. He returned ten minutes later, changed out of Cris’ clothes, and with a clean t-shirt and sweats that he tossed at Cesc. “Shower. You stink.”

“I wanna go home and change,” Cesc whined. Xabi had spotted the bottle of pills beside Cesc and grabbed it. “I can’t go to work in sweatpants.”

Xabi tossed a couple of pills back with a glass of scotch that Fernando had only now noticed. “You’re not going to work at all.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“No. There’s no way you’re going. It’ll raise all kinds of questions. How are you going to do repair work on cars with one functioning arm anyways?”

Cesc knew Xabi was right so he opted to leave the room and get cleaned up instead of arguing with the man, who was clearly angry. But as soon as he walked out, he poked his head back in. “Stevie’s still here.”

“Yes. As he so righteously pointed out, he owns this place too. Can’t kick him out.”

“Sure you can. And he’d go too if you asked him to,” Fernando stated, his voice louder than necessary, as Xabi settles where Cesc had been sitting. Louis instinctively shifted away, which didn’t escape Xabi’s notice.

“Of course Xabi would never ask Stevie to leave.” Cesc teased loudly. A distant chuckle floated through the doorway.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that.” Xabi grumbled, gulping down his drink. Cesc left and the trio on the couch sat quietly through the peanut butter jelly disaster and the keep moving forward scene with Louis leaning away from Xabi, and practically into Fernando’s lap. The boy squirmed every time Xabi moved. He was scared. When Xabi raised his hand to run it through his hair, the kid flinched, very noticeably.

“Hey,” Xabi addressed him in a soft tone that Fernando hadn’t heard in a while. He used to use it more often when Stevie had been a permanent fixture in his life. “What’s wrong kiddo?”

The boy didn’t reply. He only shook his head. Fernando imagined that Costa wouldn’t have gotten violent with Louis, save for the restraining. If he’d kidnapped the kid because he wanted something or even if he just wanted to cause friction between the rival gangs, he had probably still been scared shitless of Schweinsteiger. That explained why the kid hadn’t been harmed at all. Not physically at least. Xabi, however, was not afraid of Bastian. He had no reason to be pleasant to the kid. He didn’t even need to acknowledge the kid’s existence until it came time to hand him over.

“I don’t believe that. Something’s got to be bothering you,” he said, as if he didn’t already know exactly what bothered the boy. He sighed when Louis shook his head again. “You know, the way things happened last night… no one planned for them to be that way. No one was supposed to get hurt. Understand?”

The boy nodded timidly.

“We’re not going to hurt you. In fact, you’ll be home soon okay?” More nodding. Xabi smiled softly, his face lit up and Fernando gagged a bit at the cheesiness of it all. He didn’t exactly prefer angry, bossy Xabi, but, lately, he was used to the grumpiness in comparison to the sweetness.

“Who’s hungry?” Xabi and Fernando’s ears perked up and their stomachs growled in unison, affirming Stevie’s question. “Well too bad. The food is for the kid. If you want something, get it yourself.”

“Ugh,” Xabi groaned. He moved to get up as Stevie deposited a sandwich with the crusts cut off (coincidentally pb & j) on a plate in Louis hands. Stevie stopped him immediately.

“Actually, Xabs, you shouldn’t even be walking. Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to stop pretending everything is okay.”

“Well that doesn’t sound very appetizing.”

“Stevie!”

“You know what Xabi, I am trying to be nice. We haven’t seen each other in a while, so being pleasant really wouldn’t hurt, but if you want me to leave, I’ll go. Fernando was right, all you have to do is say the words.” Xabi glared at him but didn’t open his mouth. “That’s what I thought.”

Xabi’s phone beeped, indicating a text. “That’ll be Özil.”

“What’s he saying?” Fernando asked.

“Looks like he wants to get this over with just as much as we do.” He started tapping on his screen. “Wants to meet in broad daylight.”

“Well we’re on their terms so I guess—”

“We’re not on anyone’s terms but mine,” Xabi said gruffly.

Fernando glanced at Stevie. They had quite the interesting conversation through their eyes.

 _Did you do what I asked at all?_ Fernando gave Stevie a disbelieving look. Xabi still seemed dead set on doing things his way.

 _Don’t you trust me Nando?_ Stevie winked at his friend and put a finger to his lips to indicate that Fernando shouldn’t comment on it. But Fernando was annoyed and wanted to comment. He wanted to tell Xabi off. Ultimately, he decided against it. Stevie was glancing down at Xabi fondly, a smile gracing his face. He did trust Stevie. He just hoped that Xabi still trusted Stevie.

“Okay, we got a location.”

Xabi stood abruptly and let out a hiss of pain. Stevie reached for him but was pushed aside as Xabi limped himself back to where he’d left his gun and bullets. Stevie didn’t look offended. No, he was particularly amused as Xabi reloaded his gun. It was a nervous habit of his—unloading and reloading. He had done it twice before he spoke up again.

“So about that journal.” Fernando had been pretty happy not thinking about that. “You better not be lying to me about not sleeping with Iker.”

“You’re sleeping with Cesc’s guy?” Stevie asked incredulously.

“No!” Fernando covered his face with his hands. “I’m not lying, Xabi.”

“Whose journal is it?”

“Remember that doctor last night?”

“You mean the one James ditched us with?”

“Yeah, it’s his.”

“Why’d you steal his journal?”

“I didn’t!” Fernando groaned. “I found it. On the train.”

“Why were you on the train?” Stevie asked with a raised brow. “Did you go to see Daniel?”

“No…”

“He was wearing Daniels shirt,” Xabi added unhelpfully.

“It was my shirt!”

“So you have that doctor guy’s journal… and the journal says he’s sleeping with Iker… damn. James’ doctor friend is Mr. Mystery Guy? That’s messed up.”

“Shut up, Xabi.”

“Have you found out what his dirty little secret is? Whatever James is using to keep him quiet?”

“I haven’t read much.”

“Well find out. It could be useful.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Okay, I’ll read it.”

“I’m not giving it to you,” Fernando scowled. He clutched the strap of the bag at his feet.

“Whatever. We both know you’ll end up reading it.”

“Reading what?” Cesc asked as he walked in, looking much better now that he didn’t feel all gross and dirty

“Oh. Good,” Xabi said. “We’re leaving.”

“Reading what?” Cesc asked again. No one answered him.

Fernando stood up. So did Louis, handing his plate to the tall man who pushed it at Stevie. Stevie rolled his eyes but didn’t get a chance to take it from Fernando because Cesc had already grabbed it.

“Where are we going?” He asked as he stuffed his mouth.

“Not you. We: as in me, Fernando, Stevie and the little guy.”

“I’m being left out?”

“Yes.”

“But why?” Xabi looked him in the eye.

“I’m not taking you anywhere dressed like that.” He eyed Cesc as if it was obvious. “Nobody goes to a deal in sweatpants, Cesc.”

Cesc’s jaw dropped. He clenched the hand he wasn’t holding the plate with into a fist and looked ready to tell Xabi off, but Stevie intervened.

“We’ll drop you off on the way.”

“Can’t,” Xabi said. “We’re going in the opposite direction.”

Stevie nudged him hard enough to bruise. Xabi wasn’t expecting it, leaning heavily on one foot, and almost falling over. “We’ll call you a cab then.”

Stevie got out his phone and left the room with the empty plate he pried out of the hands of a very upset Cesc. The rest of the group flooded out of the room as well. Xabi began looking for a something and became visibly frustrated when he couldn’t find it. Stevie, who was quietly talking into the phone, frowned and got a spare set of keys to the apartment off of the key hooks near the door and shook them to get Xabi’s attention. Xabi glared as he snatched them but his expression softened when he turned away from Stevie.

Fernando watched the exchange with interest, but mostly thinking, _how the fuck did Stevie know Xabi was looking for keys?_ He was still confused at the display of mind reading he’d just witnessed when Xabi tossed the keys to Cesc.

“ _Please_ lock up properly,” he said. “And call Iker. Make up an excuse for why you can’t come in for at least a week. Honestly, I think you should just quit but since when does my opinion matter.”

Everyone in the room rolled their eyes at Xabi in unison (except for Louis, who despite Xabi’s gentle reassuring words, was still understandably terrified of the man after seeing him put a bullet in someone’s head). Stevie hung up and opened the door.

“Take care, Cesc,” Stevie said. “Your cab should be here in ten minutes.”

“Keep your phone on,” Fernando followed with Louis. “I’ll probably text you later.”

“Remember to call Iker,” Xabi was the last to go. “And lock up properly!”

Cesc was left with the thought of how quickly Xabi had seemingly let Stevie back into his circle of trust. As if he’d never left. His next thought was _ow my shoulder!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Meet the Robinsons so much! It satisfies my inner child (even though I can't stand pb & j oops).
> 
> I really hope Fernando will be happy back in Madrid. I hoped the same thing with Milan but that didn't turn out so well *shrugs*
> 
> Comments and suggestions are much appreciated!!!


	5. Is Iker Jealous or Just Overprotective? You'll never know.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lot's of feelings are discussed.
> 
> New character introduced.
> 
> Umm... more feelings?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This hasn't been proofed at all so I am extra sorry for any mistakes.

Mesut Özil wasn’t the kind of person that got agitated or unnerved very easily. That came in handy with the things he did. He did them calm and composed. But Xabi Alonso happened to be the most infuriating man he’s ever met and he was on the verge of a mental breakdown.

“I just want to talk to the guy. Besides, why wouldn’t he want to come get his son personally? Is he really that antisocial?”

“What are you playing at?” Toni called out from beside Mesut.

“Like I said,” Xabi repeated in a mocking tone. “I just want a conversation. Face to face. Is that too much to ask? This deal _is_ between the two of us and no one else.”

Toni’s phone vibrated and he looked down at the screen. “They want to know what the hold up is.”

“Tell them what he wants.” Mesut growled. Xabi smirked victoriously as Kroos angrily tapped his screen. “This is ridiculous and you know it. This could have been over half an hour ago. It can still be over in a matter of ten seconds.”

“A single conversation can’t be all that complicated Özil,” Stevie said. Fernando saw Xabi throw a pointed glare at Stevie but that morphed into a smile when he turned away. A small one, but it was there. It still didn’t seem that Stevie had been able to talk Xabi out of his stupidity. Maybe there were demands Stevie wanted to make too and convinced Xabi to bring him along. Fernando wouldn’t put that past him, but he didn’t want to jump to conclusions just yet. He was still sure that Stevie cared too much about Xabi for that. He still trusted him.

Toni frowned at his phone. “They agreed.”

Xabi clasped his hands together in mock enthusiasm. “Well then, what are we waiting for?”

Mesut sighed. “Follow us. I swear Alonso if you’re fucking around, you’re not coming out alive. This is his _son_ we’re talking about.”

“If that’s a threat I can assure you that we’ll be able to handle a few of his goons.”

“A few?” Mesut chuckled humorlessly. “Everyone will be there.”

\----

‘There’ ended up being a very crowded rave that seemed like it had been going on for days. ‘Everyone’ ended up being… well, _everyone_.

Fernando could swear that the entire city was there. It was difficult to maneuver the kid through all the people, and to keep track of Mesut and Toni in front of them. Eventually they came to a set of doors. The second they went through, the level of conversation dropped to zero. The room was huge and the only source of sound was the dubstep coming through the doors. At the very back sat Bastian Schweinsteiger. The man he was sitting next to, who had been slumped against him, straightened like an arrow.

As they tensely crossed the room, Louis waved to a bunch of people he recognized, but no one waved back or even looked at the kid—who didn’t really care because he was just happy to be surrounded by familiar people he felt safe with. All the people in the room—men and women alike—glared at the three as if they were trespassers, which they were, in a way, even though they’d technically been brought here. When they got close, Louis finally noticed who they were headed towards and tried to run the rest of the way.

“Daddy!” Fernando was the one appointed to hold him back, which the kid wasn’t making easy.

“Louis!” The man next to Bastian jumped up was immediately pulled back down by Bastian. “But—!”

Bastian shook his head firmly and stood.

“What’s the problem Xabi Alonso?” he asked. “Not happy with our proposal?”

“Just wanted to meet the guy who’s been trying to torment my territory for the last ten years,” Xabi said. There were more than a few humorless chuckles that came from around the room.

“Well it hasn’t been your territory the entire ten years, just as it wasn’t always me tormenting it. I guess we’re both just following the traditions of our predecessors. Me tormenting, and you being tormented.”

“Right, of course,” Xabi said, bitterness seeping into his voice. “Which is why you run away with your tail between your legs at any sign of retaliation.”

Near Fernando, someone whispered “well fuck, he’s got us there”. Bastian narrowed his eyes. He seemed acutely aware of the fact that the man still sitting behind him, presumed to be Lukas Podolski, was beginning to get very agitated, but did not turn to console him.

“Are you gonna bark all day, little doggy, or are you gonna bite?”

“I’m not here to cause any trouble. No need to get your panties in a twist.” Of course, Xabi could always be counted on to be sophisticated and unobnoxious in serious situations.

Lukas stood up and whispered into Bastian’s ear. The man looked furious but didn’t get the chance to say anything in reply.

“Here,” Xabi took Louis hand and Fernando released his grip on the child. He walked the boy up to Bastian and Lukas as calmly as he could—his limp so controlled, one wouldn’t have noticed it unless they’d known he was injured. All eyes were on them. Almost everyone, including Fernando and Stevie, had their hands hovering over their belts or hidden beneath their jackets. When Louis hand was safely in Lukas’, the entire room let out a collective sigh of relief but the tension had not been lifted, because now, Bastian and Xabi were nose to nose. “You made the terms for the deal and we got you the kid unharmed. Now you better make sure you don’t step on my toes again.”

Fernando glanced at Stevie, who was already looking at him. “Told ya so,” Stevie mouthed with a wink. Fernando didn’t even have time to roll his eyes before Xabi was walking past them, muttering a gruff “let’s go.”

\----

Cesc was grumbling to himself in the taxi cab when his phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Cesc, where the hell are you?”

“Iker?”

“Yes it’s me. Don’t you check who’s calling before you answer?”

“No…”

“Where are you? You were supposed to be here two hours ago.”

“Oh um… I can’t make it. I’m *cough**cough* so sick.”  _Oh well_ , he thought. _I’m trying._

“Really now?” Iker questioned, disbelief drowning his words.

“Really.”

“Then why can I hear traffic in the background?”

“Well excuse me for going to the doctor,” Cesc snapped.

“I’m sorry, Cesc.” Iker sighed. “We were just so busy this morning and I really needed you here.”

 _He needed me!_ “Hopefully, I’ll be better soon.”

“That’ll be twenty-three fifty,” the cab driver told him. He hadn’t noticed that they’d arrived at his apartment complex. He got out his wallet.

“You’re taking a cab? What clinic are you at? I’ll pick you up.”

“Uh… no, Iker. It’s fine, really. I’ll manage on my own.” He handed the driver a twenty and a five, waving away the change as he got out.

“Cesc if you’re sick you shouldn’t be out on your own.” He went inside and pressed the elevator button impatiently.

“I said I’ll manage, Iker!” Cesc was raising his voice now. Thankfully, no one was around to stare at him. “Jeez, you’re my boss not my boyfrie—I mean, not my mother!”

“Just your boss, huh?” Cesc could practically see the scowl that had most likely taken over Iker’s face as if the man was standing in front of him. The elevator was taking forever.

“No,” Cesc mumbled. “You’re my… friend.”

“Cesc,” Iker started timidly, "is something wrong? Between us, I mean?”

“I don’t understand.”

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I have not!”

“Yeah, and that’s why you take shifts when I’m not around.”

“That’s a coincidence.”

“ _Of course_ it is. So why didn’t you come to talk to me when I asked you to yesterday?”

“I—I forgot. Iker,” Cesc let out a slow breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, clenching his eyes shut. “I’m not avoiding you.”

“What clinic are you at?”

“I’m not at the doctors. I’m home now.” The second he let it slip, he regretted it. But he couldn’t take it back and the annoying throbbing in his arm reminded him how stupid this little mistake was. How it could cost him everything.

“I’ll be there in ten.”

“No! Wait, Iker—aghhh!” The line went dead and the elevator dinged to announce its arrival. Cesc contemplated turning his phone off and hiding out at Xabi’s, since he had the keys anyways, but decided against it and stepped through into the elevator.

When he got inside he collapsed onto his couch and cursed himself for every bad decision he’d ever made. If Iker figured things out, shit would go down. And if Xabi found out that Iker found out, then shit would seriously hit the fan. A lot of the guys who worked for Iker worked for Xabi too. Some of them just did small things for small money and some were as far in as Cesc was or had been around even longer. Cesc felt he was about to ruin everything for all of them. A job served as a cover. It gave them alibi’s and alibi’s meant staying out of court and jail and not being in prison meant more people working for Xabi. People working for Xabi made Xabi happy. Happy Xabi is a blessing. But this— _this_ would not make _anyone_ happy.

When Iker knocked on his door, he chose not to answer.

“I know you’re in there Francesc.” Iker said between knocks. “You’re not getting out of this conversation.”

Cesc answered the door grudgingly. He almost cried out when Iker rammed into his injured shoulder, pushing his way into the apartment. He managed to not make his pain very obvious as he shut the door and faced his boss.

“Damn, you look so pale.” Iker put a hand on Cesc’s forehead. “And you’re not warm. You’re actually kind of cold.”

Cesc shivered involuntarily when Iker moved his hand to Cesc’s cheek. “I’m fine. I can take care of myself.”

“You’re sweating. And shivering. But you’re not feverish. You should be in bed.”

“I was,” Cesc lied automatically. “I had to get up to let you in.”

“You were in bed in your jacket?” _Oh_ , Cesc thought, remembering he hadn’t changed. Iker looked him up and down. “And your boots?”

“Yes…?”

“What’s going on?”

“Iker pl—”

“You were going to the doctors but you weren’t. You’re not exactly sick but you’re not healthy either. And you want me to believe you were in bed practically fully dressed? Save for those sweatpants. Whose clothes are you wearing anyways? They’re way too big on you.”

“Xabi’s, but that’s not the point. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Then why are you lying to me?” Iker pointedly ignored the mention of Xabi. His hand was still firmly on Cesc’s cheek, and his other hand rested on Cesc’s uninjured shoulder, squeezing slightly to urge the younger man to open up to him. Cesc knew Iker meant it as a friendly gesture, to assure him that he could be trusted, but Cesc could barely think with the man so close to him, looking right at him with shining eyes.

“I—I—um… I don’t—” He was stammering, looking for an excuse.

“Come on Cesc, if something's wrong, you know I’ll do everything in my power to help you.”

“I, uh, got shot.” Ikers expression changed from doe-eyed to confused. “I got shot in the, uh, shoulder.”

Iker lifted his hand from Cesc’s shoulder and moved back a bit, having to remove the hand on his cheek too. Cesc’s whole body slackened at the loss of contact but he let out a shaky laugh.

“No, the other one.” He carefully slipped off his jacket, wincing when his arm stretched a bit too far. Then he pulled back the collar of his—Xabi’s—shirt to show Iker the bandage covering the stitches.

“How the hell did you manage to get yourself shot?”

“A mugging.” Cesc shrugged, weaving his next lie carefully. Saying too much all at once would give him away.

“You got mugged?!” Iker asked. “Why didn’t you—”

“No! No, Iker, _I_ didn’t get mugged.”

“So… you mugged someone?”

“I _saw_ someone being mugged and tried to help.” It wouldn’t hurt to play himself as a hero. Like he’d told Fernando, Sergio probably saved lives every day as a doctor and Cesc’s job sometimes involved killing people. He couldn’t tell Iker _that_.

“That must have been so scary!” Iker pulled Cesc into his arms, carefully avoiding the healing wound. Cesc gladly buried his face into Ikers shoulder, taking in the scent of the man’s cologne, the slight smell of gasoline and engine fumes mixed with it. If there was anything that Cesc loved almost as much as he loved Iker, it was anything that had to do with cars. “You went to the hospital right? You didn’t try to patch it up on your own, did you?”

Cesc closed his eyes and leaned into Iker in a lazy haze. “Fernando took me.”

“You should have called me.”

“Fernando was closer. I was on my way to meet him in the first place.”

“You should have called me anyways. We should contact the police.”

“Someone called them.” Technically, not a lie. Someone had called the cops on them. He made a mental note to ask Xabi about what happened with all that DNA they left splattered in Costa’s apartment.

“Have they caught the guy?”

“I’m sure they’re working on it. But I think they have bigger fish to fry. Apparently there was a murder near the shop.” It wasn’t the best idea to bring Iker’s attention towards the truth. He didn’t know why he did it. Maybe it was because it would help to know what Iker already knew about the truth to divert his attention away from the possibility of him thinking that Cesc’s injury could have something to do with it. But it was likely because Cesc couldn’t form a single coherent thought, wrapped in Iker’s warmth the way he was.

“Yeah, I heard about that. It’s probably those gangs up to no good again. I heard that the guy who got killed had kidnapped a kid or something.” Cesc tensed. Iker noticed. His voice had become cold and hard when talking about the shooting but the tone became soft again. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Cesc pulled away, despite not wanting to. “I hope that kid is alright.”

Which he sort of did. He hadn’t gotten an update about what went down just yet.

“Well who knows if it’s even true. No kid was found as far as I know,” Iker said. He was a little confused as to why Cesc was suddenly rejecting his comfort. One look at Cesc’s face gave him a good idea. “You should rest. You look like you’ve had a rough time.”

 _You have no idea._ “Yeah. Just, uh, one question. Who exactly did you hear all that from?”

“Uh, Xavi. He stopped by.” _Xavi is back?_ “With that guy, the one you were pretty close with… um, I can’t remember his name now…”

Cesc gulped. “Leo?”

“I think so. Why? Is it important?”

“Nope,” Cesc said, trying to sound nonchalant but his voice was just a tiny bit too high pitched. So he tried to distract Iker from demanding reasons for his curiosity. “Wow, Leo and Xavi, huh? Haven’t seen them around for a while.”

“I know that Xavi’s been out of town for a while. Don’t know much about that Leo guy. I didn’t even know they were friends.”

“They are,” Cesc said stepping out of his shoes, “kind of. I mean they’ve done… business together, for a long time.”

Iker walked him to the bedroom as Cesc contemplated whether to tell Xabi about this new information. Lionel Messi, like Cristiano, no longer ran with them. But there were vast differences between Leo and Cris. Leo was a massive instigator in where they all were today. Cris being gone, Xabi being in charge, Stevie leaving Xabi, and Fernando resorting to pretending that he didn’t have feelings for Daniel. Everything had Leo’s hand in it in one way or another. Cesc wouldn’t be surprised if everything that had happened after Leo left had, somehow (however unlikely), been set up by him too. However, for the first time in a long time, Cesc questioned where his loyalties truly lay.

“Hey, call me if you need anything okay?” Iker said, once Cesc was under the covers. Cesc nodded. “And, um, just—uh…”

“What?”

“Did you say you were wearing Xabi’s clothes?” Iker asked. His brow scrunched in confusion and his lips set in a pout.

“Uh… yeah.”

“Huh. I just—well I just thought Fernando was the one to take you to the hospital. I would’ve thought that you would have stayed with him or something.”

“Actually,” Cesc started, not really understanding why Iker was taking the conversation in this particular direction, therefore not sure how to respond to appease him. “I stayed at James and Cris’ place. James thought it would be for the best for… doctor reasons.”

“And you ended up in Xabi’s clothes how exactly?” There was a slight pink tinge on Ikers cheeks, hinting at what he was thinking. Cesc mirrored the blush as he realized. It was dumb, he thought, for Iker to entertain a thought like that. But he understood the implication. He remembered Xabi teasing Fernando about not being in his own shirt when he’d joined them the previous morning.

“Fernando had called him. I needed clothes without blood and bullet holes and he brought them to the hospital for me. It was nice of him to come at all so I worked with what I got.” The lies were getting ridiculous now. Cesc had to make sure Iker never found out that Xabi got shot too because he’d end up caught in his own web of deceit.

“Oh,” Iker cleared his throat. The mood in between them was riddled with uncomfortable tension. “That makes sense I guess. I’ll be off now. Call me when you need me, yeah?”

Cesc smiled and nodded as Iker left, but inside he wanted to cry. His conversations with Iker were getting more and more intolerable. He needed to talk to someone desperately. The knowledge that Leo was back, and that his number was still on Cesc’s speed dial, burned a hole into his mind.

\----

“Was I imagining things or was Miroslav Klose actually there?” Stevie pondered.

“I saw him too,” Fernando replied, when Xabi didn’t.

“I heard that he was hired to kill some politician, Chairman Müller or someone, and he ended up sparing the guys life so he got shunned. They got married after that or something.”

“Maybe they decided to take him back. He is a legendary assassin after all.”

“Hmm…” Stevie trailed off. “Must have been while Lahm was still around.”

Xabi’s phone beeped.

“Our blood is officially off police record.” He smirked.

“What?” Fernando asked, taking his eyes off the road for a second. “How?”

“Does it matter?”

“A little, yeah.”

“Well, don’t worry about it.” Fernando caught Stevie’s eye in the rear view mirror. Stevie shrugged.

Xabi was being secretive. It wasn’t new. He was horrible with secrets anyways. He’d spill his classified ‘genius’ method of tampering with investigation evidence soon enough.

\----

Cesc lay in bed, regretting every decision he’d ever made. The good, the bad, the mediocre. He put his phone to his ear and waited.

\----

Fernando left the second they reached Xabi’s, probably to head over to Agger’s. Who cares? Xabi doesn’t (at least he’d never admit it if he did but he _does not_ ). He wanted to tell Stevie to leave, so he could prove that he was over what happened between them and that it didn’t matter to him whether he stayed in Xabi’s life or not. But the truth was that Xabi didn’t want him to leave. And he’d been promised an explanation. They walked from the elevator in silence and Xabi turned to face him as soon as Stevie closed the door. He stepped forward so that when Stevie turned around, his body was essentially trapped between Xabi and the door.

“Start talking.”

“Don’t you want to sit down at the very least?”

“No.”

“Fine. When Leo stepped down and Xavi decided to leave with him you were all counting on their decision. In the end, it came down to you and Cristiano but Cris wanted out and—”

“I already know all this. I was there. Move the fuck on.”

Stevie narrowed his eyes. “You’re not as intimidating as you think you are so drop the act. You can’t pretend with me.”

“Who’s pretending,” Xabi said. It sounded threatening but his eyes darted away from Stevie’s for a fraction of a second, giving him away.

“Oh stop. Fernando and Cesc and everyone else act as if you are so it won’t make you seem like you’re a slack boss but you’re not scary. You never wanted to be. Leo definitely was. Xavi and Cristiano—when they want to be. Schweinsteiger too. But not you.”

Xabi was taken aback. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Xabi, this person you’re trying to be, it’s not you. It’s Leo. And you’re not Leo.” Stevie put his hands on Xabi’s arms to stop him from swaying the way he was. He shouldn’t have exerted himself as much as he did while injured, but Xabi was stubborn.

“He chose me. Me _and_ Cris.” Xabi fists were clenched tightly, nails digging into his palms.

“Not because he thought you could continue things exactly the way he did. He chose you because he knew you could handle things just as well in your own way.”

He clenched even tighter and broke through the skin. He could feel stickiness seeping under his nails. The sharp second of pain brought him some sobriety from the blind anger he felt at Stevie’s words. He thought, at first, that he was being told that he wasn’t good enough, but that wasn’t it. Stevie was telling him he _was_ good enough, that he didn’t need to be anyone but himself to be great. But it still didn’t explain one thing. It didn’t explain why Stevie could claim that he cared, after he’d broken Xabi’s heart all that time ago. By telling him it wouldn’t work out. By leaving when Xabi thought things couldn’t get any better.

“What does this have to do with what happened between us?”

“It has to do with us because,” Stevie sighed deeply. He moved his hands down to Xabi’s, unclenching them without protest. He rubbed his thumbs over Xabi’s knuckles. It was more of a comfort, this kind of contact, to him than he imagined it would be to Xabi. Xabi’s fingers were cold and unresponsive. “If I hadn’t… left, if I’d stayed with you, he would have chosen someone else.”

“What?”

“I knew you wanted it at the time. You wanted it so badly then and—Leo said that if I stayed with you, he’d choose someone else. And I’d rolled with Carragher for so long by then, I couldn’t… I made the wrong call Xabi. I chose my pride over you.”

“It was because you were working for Carragher? But I did too at one point. So did Fernando.”

“But you didn’t anymore and that was what counted. Who I worked for or didn’t work for didn’t matter. The fact that I wasn’t on Leo’s side was the problem. He said that I could either join him and keep you or… I wasn’t willing to work for him.” Xabi didn’t say anything, only stared blankly. So Stevie tried to fill the silence. “In the end, he thought if I broke your heart, it would make you stronger.”

“And what did you think.”

“I thought I knew what was best for you. I thought I knew what you’d want more. And I’m so—” He sighed. “I guess I said I would stop apologizing huh?”

“I guess I was right when I said you don’t know what I want.”

Stevie hung his head. “I doubted what you felt for me. And I’ve regretted it ever since.”

Xabi’s thoughts were in overdrive. “Is that why Fernando and Daniel broke up?”

\----

After Cesc hung up, he slept—straight through the rest of the day and till the next morning. When he awoke, he had a slight headache, but was feeling a lot better and clear headed than the day before. He hadn’t rolled over on to his injured arm in his sleep so it only throbbed a little. He hoped it would stay that way throughout the day. He didn’t even remember that he hadn’t locked the door after Iker left so he walked into his living room to see Lionel Messi lounging on his couch, sipping on a mug of coffee. Another steaming mug sat on the coffee table next to a box of what he hoped was chocolate glazed donuts. If Leo knew him at all, then they probably were. Leo smirked when he saw Cesc staring at him, frozen, a few feet away and motioned for him to join in on breakfast. Cesc obeyed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> S/o to all the Tarantino fans out there who recognized the Reservoir Dogs reference. Also s/o to my awesome friend Ramgel who gave me the idea to use it when I was stuck.
> 
> So the last chapter is super short right now but I'm trying my best to make it decent without over doing anything.


	6. I Feel Like This is a Bad Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is cockblock trash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't proof read this, again. Sorry!

Fernando woke up smiling, feeling the most content and well rested he had felt in a long time. He couldn’t recall ever having worries or duties or… anything. Wherever he was, it was warm and it was comforting. But something was bothering him just a little. He grumbled a little shifted under the covers that were over the lower half of his body, only to realize that the thing that was bothering him was between his legs. Super hard and super annoying. Something moved behind him. An arm found its way around his waist and a hand began tracing delicate circles on his abdomen. He sighed happily, ignoring the fact that the light touches were only making him hornier, because he was so content. He opened his eyes slowly, gazing around to see clothes strewn everywhere. His eyes travelled lower and saw the tattooed fingers playing with his sun bleached happy trail. And then lower, and lower until they were just at the edge of the covers—

The smile on his face when he woke up was wiped off completely with the memory of where he was. He pushed the hand off him and shot out of the bed.

“Oh, don’t be so impolite Nando.”

“Shut up, Dan.” Fernando bent down to pick up his clothes and winced at how sore his muscles were. Daniel laughed.

“Don’t go just yet,” the man whined.

“I have to,” Fernando snapped. He wanted to stay. Just the thought of it was sending more heat to his lower abdomen. The thought of how Daniel had been pressed up against him from behind, keeping him warm, before he ruined the moment made his cock twitch. And Daniel definitely noticed his little dilemma. He frantically searched for his boxers as the other man watched him with a smile.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take care of that for you before you go?”

“Dan, where are my boxers?” Of course he wanted that. He didn’t want to get on the train with a boner. But if Dan ‘helped him out’, he wouldn’t leave for the rest of the day.

“Underneath the bed,” the Dane said, sighing in defeat. “Fernando, why are we doing this?”

“Doing what?” He winced slightly at Daniels tone. He seemed… sad. Fernando felt horrible for being the reason for it.

But he couldn’t face—

He was in so much denial of—

He couldn’t even bring himself to think about—

“ _This_ ,” Daniel said, stretching his limbs. “Every time you say you’re done with me, but then you always come back.”

“I _am_ done with you. I shouldn’t even be here. If Leo knew…” He trailed off, knowing that excuse no longer applied.

“That’s the thing Fernando, he doesn’t know. And even if he did, it wouldn’t be his place to say anything about it. He doesn’t control you anymore.” Fernando was fully dressed and even Daniel had managed to slip his boxers on. He approached Fernando and put an arm around his waist, pulling him close and planting small kisses along his jawline. “Why are you fighting this?”

Fernando shuddered, leaning into Daniels touch for a split second. But he’d been in denial for so long that it was natural now. He pulled away. “I have to go.”

He grabbed his bag and hurried out. The man he left behind all of a sudden felt extremely dirty.

\----

Stevie woke to loud noises in the kitchen. He’d slept on the couch, wanting to give Xabi his space, but he regretted it when he found his neck to be painfully stiff as he turned his head to peek at what the commotion was. He saw Xabi loudly moving around pots and pans, not actually doing much with them. Stevie stood up when he saw that Xabi was limping and stumbling.

“Xabi,” he called out. “Xabi sit down, you’re going to hurt yourself.”

Xabi turned to face Stevie, who had stood up and was approaching him, surprised for a second and then just annoyed. “I’m not an invalid.”

“You shouldn’t be walking around. You were on your feet all of yesterday already.” Stevie tried to put a hand on Xabi’s shoulder but was pushed away. Anger sparked in him from the rejection. He was only trying to help. “Xabi, I’m not fucking kidding. Sit the fuck down.”

Xabi looked at him with curiosity. Oh if only Stevie realized how much his tone of voice turned Xabi on. Mostly he just wanted Stevie to take him into his arms (or maybe let Xabi suck his dick or something). But he’d realized that the man was giving him space. So Xabi let Stevie guide him to the couch he’d just been sleeping on. All of a sudden he had an idea. In reality it was really dumb of him to do. He could have seriously hurt his leg, but he thought it was absolute genius.

To Stevie, it seemed like Xabi had stumbled as he collapsed into him and they both fell on the couch, Xabi making sure he was on top so that Stevie couldn’t back away like last time. His leg killed, but all he could think about was Stevie’s eyes boring into his and the way his hand was firmly against the small of Xabi’s back. The way Stevie whispered his name almost right onto Xabi's lips. Of course it was Xabi who moved forward and melded their lips into a searing kiss, Did he forgive Stevie? No. Not yet, anyways. But they’d been together for so long and then been apart for long enough. Stevie’s hands were innocently on Xabi’s hips now but there was nothing innocent about the way Xabi sucked on Stevie’s lower lip. Nothing innocent about the way Stevie moaned when Xabi slipped a hand between them to illicit friction on his crotch. Nothing innocent about the way Stevie was hardening under his fingers. But Stevie’s hands remained where they were.

\----

Fernando sat on an uncomfortable metal chair waiting for his train, reading a journal that didn’t belong to him. Fernando sat on an uncomfortable metal chair waiting for his train when he hit rock bottom.

_I regret everything. I could have done so much better. I could have just endured a bit more. She endured so much for me, and I didn't even thank her for all she did for me and my brother. And now she's gone. They both are. I'll never be able to show them how grateful I am._

The words hit Fernando hard. He didn't know who this Sergio guy was talking about, but everything the journal was saying struck a chord with him. And he wanted to cry. He thought of all Daniel had done for him when he had still worked for Carragher. He remembered how miserable he was and Daniel had helped him get out of the sadness and depression. Daniel had been his anchor and he'd promised himself he'd do everything in his power to keep him. And then he'd just decided to let go. But not entirely. Instead, he strung Daniel along and hurt him countless times. But still, his Danny was there for him. He couldn't stand to think about losing him. About never getting him back.

_There were so many signs. So many times that I should have stopped and listened, just paid a little attention to what she was saying. People tried to tell me. And I didn't listen. I should have. Even James told me how stupid I was being, I should have known to listen to at least him after everything he'd put at stake for me. For my past mistakes. I was too caught up in my own stupid little world. If Iker knew about the things I'd done, he'd leave. I wouldn't be able to live if he left._

The vague, half-confessions in Sergio's writing barely registered in Fernando’s mind. He was only partially aware of what exactly he was reading. He was too busy thinking about the sadness in Daniels voice. The frown lines on his face. He was the reason for those.

_I'm willing to do anything to make sure Iker will never find out. That he'll never leave me._

He should go back. He needs to apologize.

_Even if it means getting even with those mobster friends that Cris has._

He stood up for his train. And then just stood, shoved from side to side by people trying to get on. And he stood long after his train had left. How long would he keep making excuses? How long would he keep hurting Dan? He didn’t know why he could no longer bring himself to admit his feelings. At first, it had been an act to appease Leo, because the man wouldn’t tolerate people not respecting his authority. Because he knew Leo would never approve of him seeing someone who worked for Leo’s rival.

But why the two of them? Why hadn’t he approached Xabi about Stevie the same way he approached Fernando about Dan. Fernando thought it could have something to do with the fact that Xabi wasn’t as easily manipulated as he was. Because here he was, still entertaining the same doubts about his love for Daniel that Leo had planted in his mind all that time ago, long after Leo was gone. Leo was gone and Daniel no longer worked for Carragher.

He knew that now was not the time. He was busy. Had things to do. Xabi needed to explain how he got the police off their trail, and he probably had a new job lined up already—if Stevie hadn’t kept him distracted all night. He was probably required for something, to hack into some corporation’s mainframe, to get blackmail material, further delve into Sergio’s past now that he had a few hints about what might be going on. It was more important now too, since it could potentially involve James.

Despite all of this, he walked out of the station and made his way back to Daniel’s apartment. No more excuses, he told himself. He knocked even though he knew that when he had left, Daniel would just have gotten back into bed instead of following to lock the door. He knocked again when there was no answer, getting less confident with each passing second. Daniel didn’t come to open the door. Fernando sucked in a deep breath, turned the knob as quietly as he could, and let himself in. He closed the door just as quietly.

“Danny?” he called out, walking towards the room he’d spent the night in.

“Nando?” He reached the bedroom and stood timidly in the doorway, taking in the sight before him. Daniel was curled up under his blanket with red eyes. His voice was distressed when he spoke again. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m an idiot,” Fernando said. “I’m an idiot and I’m sorry I take you for granted. I’m sorry I use you and make you feel like you don’t matter.”

“Nando—”

“Because you do. You matter so much and I should never have given you up. I shouldn’t have let the idea of pleasing someone else, of letting a stupid rivalry that neither of us had a real part in, affect how I treated you.”

“You _are_ an idiot.” Daniel said, sitting up now. Fernando leaned against the door frame, trying to look casual, but mostly because he needed the support to keep himself from swaying on his feet. He felt the slightest bit dizzy at the situation and he hated it.

“You don’t deserve me. You deserve someone who knows how to show you they care about you. I don’t even— I never thought— How the fuck do I even say this?”

“Feelings suck?”

“No.” Fernando shook his head. He sat next to Dan on the bed. He couldn’t look at him. So he just looked down at his lap. “Feelings don’t suck. The feelings that I have, the ones solely reserved for you, are the best I’ve ever felt. But talking, talking about feelings kinda sucks.”

Dan chuckled and shifted behind Fernando. He wrapped his arms around the other man’s shoulders, letting his hands wander just a bit. Fernando leaned back into his touch, as Daniel moved forward to place a kiss on his cheek. Then he rested his chin on Fernando’s shoulder and sighed. “It doesn’t have to suck. I think it’s just you that generally sucks at it.”

“Rude,” Fernando muttered, but nothing could bring him down from the satisfaction of realizing that Daniel had seemingly accepted his poorly offered apology. They stayed like that for a while, Daniel hugging him from the back. He would occasionally turn his head to kiss whatever part of Daniels face he could reach, and Daniel would nuzzle deeper into his neck. He hadn’t felt contentment like this in ages. So he just intertwined his fingers with the Dane’s and relaxed into his comforting touch, enveloping himself in his warm presence.

\----

They stopped kissing so Xabi could look at Stevie’s face as he slowly stroked him. Stevie bit his lip hard and his fingers dug into Xabi’s hips painfully. He didn’t speed up, but he tightened his grip slightly and Stevie hissed.

“Xabi,” he whimpered. “Xabi, please.”

“Yes?” was the reply, as Xabi latched his lips onto Stevie’s neck, sucking lightly between his words. “What is it?”

“Don’t.”

So Xabi stopped. He pulled back and looked into Stevie’s eyes. “Do you not want this?”

“I do. But… you haven’t forgiven me.”

Xabi started stroking his cock again. This time at a decent, and steady pace. “No, I haven’t.”

Stevie gasped. His hands left Xabi’s hips to grip the couch cushions. “Then why are you doing this?”

“Shhh,” Xabi whispered, increasing his pace. Stevie squirmed underneath him. “There are such things as second chances and they don’t require forgiveness. Forgiveness, however, does require earning trust. You said you doubted my feelings for you before. Please don’t do that again.”

Stevie let out a strangled laugh. “I think it’ll be difficult to, if you— _oh fuck_ … k—keep looking at me like t—that.”

Xabi felt Stevie’s thighs tremble beneath him when he ghosted his thumb over the leaking slit, signalling how close he was. So he captured his mouth to quiet his moans and slowed down just a bit to make it last. Stevie tried to say something against his lips. He knew that Stevie wanted him to speed up and get it over with by the way he bucking his hips, but Xabi was having none of that. There was a small, but disrupting noise somewhere near them.

“Hey Xabs! Look who’s here—oh gosh. I feel like this is a bad time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... super disappointing, I know.
> 
> The next part of the series should be up in a week or two (depending on my exam schedule) and it'll start off right where this one ends. It won't be updated as fast but it'll be longer with lots of flashbacks to explain why everyone is so messed up and broken.
> 
> I actually can't believe I managed to post and finish this at all.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and leaving kudos and commenting!!! It's all a real motivation :D

**Author's Note:**

> Work title is a song by Paramore.
> 
> I'll most likely edit this to make things clearer.


End file.
